"Damn him," repeated Scott, a little frightened at his own words and
attitude; "I've had enough of this baby business; I'm eighteen and I
want two things: some friends to go about with freely, and some money to
do what other boys do. And you can tell Mr. Tappan, for all I care."

"What would you buy with money that is not already provided for, Scott?"
asked Kathleen, gently ignoring his excited profanity.

"I don't know; there is no pleasure in using things which that fool of
a Trust Company votes to let you have. Anyway, what I want is liberty
and money."

"What would you do with what you call liberty, dear?"

"Do? I'd--I'd--well, I'd go shooting if I wanted to. I'd buy a gun and
go off somewhere after ducks."

"But your father's old club on the Chesapeake is open to you. Shall I
ask Mr. Tappan?"

"Oh, yes: I know," he sneered, "and Mr. Tappan would send some chump of
a tutor there to teach me. I don't want to be taught how to hit ducks. I
want to find out for myself. I don't care for that sort of thing," he
repeated savagely; "I just ache to go off somewhere with a boy of my own
age where there's no club and no preserve and no tutor; and where I can
knock about and get whatever there is to get without anybody's help."

Geraldine said: "You have more liberty now than I have, Scott. What are
you howling for?"